


Known Variable

by sparrowswing



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Arguing, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Character Development, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Growing Up, Hopeful Ending, Insubordination, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Training, Trust Issues, Unrecognized Emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 14:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrowswing/pseuds/sparrowswing
Summary: A hundred lingering touches, a thousand secret smiles... How long does it take to know a person - to love them, heart and soul?





	Known Variable

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! ♥

Known Variable

“Why we gotta practice hand ta hand combat anyway? A bullet in the head’ll end a fight real quick.”

“Because, McCree,” Gabe kicked out and knocked Jesse’s leg out from under him, “a gun’s only useful at range. Up close that bullet’s got as much chance of going in your head as it does theirs.”

Jesse panted from his position on the floor, rolling to get up but being knocked down again. His ribs ached where the blow had landed. The bruises would show up sometime tomorrow. He wondered if they’d be the same shade of purple as the ones he already sported from their last training session. “I can fan the hammer faster’n they can grab my gun.”

A knee came down to rest in the center of his back, pinning him to the mat. Gabe’s voice was husky in his ear. “Are you willing to bet your life on that, kid?”

Gabe was obviously just trying to provoke him, but he probably wasn’t expecting to be knocked aside, grappled and pinned. “I ain’t no kid!” Jesse knew his expression was petulant, defying his own words, but he couldn’t help but bristle at constantly being judged for his age.

Gabe let out a hearty laugh, shrugging Jesse off and hopping to his feet with ease, like he hadn’t spent most of the day in the ring grappling with his recruits. “You’re getting better. Maybe we should move on to knives.”

Jesse frowned at his commander. “I ain’t killin’ nobody with no knife.” He had enough blood on his hands already; no need to make that literal.

“Look, _kid_ , when your life's on the line, it’s just you and the enemy, you need to do anything - _anything_ \- to win. Without training, you might get lucky. With training, you’ve actually got a chance out there.”

“I did just fine without training up till now.” He did manage to take out several Overwatch squad members when they infiltrated Deadlock. He almost made it out of there unscathed, but then Gabriel Reyes showed up. Next thing Jesse knew, he was chained to a table in an interrogation room, offered a chance to shape up or spend the rest of his miserable life behind bars. Not much of a choice.

Gabe stepped close, breath hot on his face but words soft. “If you want to go back to that life, get back on that path you were on, by all means. Do it. I’ll pack your bags, ingrate. But if you want a chance to actually make something of yourself, be a force of good in this world, maybe make up for some of the shit you did when you were too young to know any better… If you’re ready to take this seriously, you let me know. Until then, stop wasting my time.”

* * *

_Beep._ Jesse groaned and tugged his pillow over his head.

 _Beep._ He put his hands to his ears, hoping to block the annoying sound.

 _Beep._ With a frustrated sigh, Jesse returned the pillow to its place and flopped back onto it. Wasn’t the Medbay supposed to be a relaxing place? Wasn’t sleep important for recovery? The machine beeping incessantly at his bedside seemed to think otherwise.

_Beep._

He hoped the Doc would clear him today. This place was driving him nuts.

He almost didn’t hear the soft knock at his door over the machine and his own frustration. It was a good thing the commander didn’t give a damn about waiting for a response. The door opened slowly, and Gabe stepped in, the picture of authority in his neatly pressed uniform. “Good, you’re awake.”

“Pretty sure this thing’s a torture device designed specifically to keep people from sleeping,” Jesse quipped, gesturing to the machine he had come to hate so much.

Gabe crossed the room and pressed a button, bathing the room in blissful silence. “Better?”

The sound of relief Jesse made probably wasn’t strictly appropriate for his commander to hear, but he couldn’t help it. The noise had dragged him out of sleep and wouldn’t let him return, no matter how tired he got. “You have no idea.”

Jesse watched Gabe inspect the various numbers on the machines he was hooked up to, a detached sort of curiosity the only emotion visible. He hated when the man avoided looking at him like this, hated feeling like he’d _disappointed_ the only person in this world who gave half a damn about him. Gabe sat in the chair by his bed, finally looking Jesse in the eye. “We need to talk about what happened.”

Jesse turned away from those piercing dark eyes, suddenly very interested in the orange bar painted along the far wall. “You debriefed the team. You know what happened.”

“I want to hear your side.” God, how could the man sound so damn patient, so detached?

Jesse rolled his eyes, settling back into his pillow and staring at the ceiling instead. “My side? What, you want me to admit I’m too stupid to follow orders? That I ran ahead and got myself hurt?”

“Is that what happened?”

Jesse was sure that’s what everyone else said. It was mostly true anyway. He’d only been running missions for a few weeks, and already he had a massive stack of demerits for misconduct and failure to follow orders. What was one more?

Gabe leaned forward, arms braced against strong thighs. “I’m just trying to understand, Niño. Help me out here.”

Jesse sighed, looked over and locked eyes with Gabe. “Davies was on point. We had the intel we needed, the bugs had been placed; mission complete, we were heading out. Everything was actually going according to plan for once.”

“...But?”

“I heard something. Thought it sounded like a woman calling for help. I asked Davies if we could divert to check it out.” Jesse shrugged and then winced when the motion tugged awkwardly at healing flesh. “Davies said sure, go ahead. _We’ll be right behind you._ ” Jesse tried not to sound bitter, but he was pretty sure it was a wasted effort. “By the time I realized they weren’t there, it was too late.” 

He paused to gauge his commander’s reaction. How much detail did Gabe need about what went wrong? The man’s jaw was clenched, his voice strained as he clarified, “Davies said they would follow, and then let you go into enemy territory alone?”

Jesse hesitated. He didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. He was finally starting to fit in here. Sure, Davies was an asshole, and that stunt damn near got him killed, but… 

No, fuck it. It was hard enough to make friends around here without sticking his neck out for people willing to throw him to the wolves for the sake of a gag. “That’s what happened, sir.”

Gabe nodded stiffly and stood. He reached out - hesitating a moment, hand hanging uselessly in the air - then ruffled Jesse’s hair, a weird little half-smile twisting his expression. “Take it easy, Niño. Listen to Doctor Ziegler. I know she looks young, but she’s a damn good doctor. She’ll have you back on the range in no time.”

By the time Jesse made it out of the Medbay two days later, Davies had been transferred to some Godforsaken hellhole in Africa.

* * *

“I thought I taught you better than this!”

“It’s called takin’ initiative!”

“It’s called a fucking deathwish, pendejo!” Gabe paced like an angry lion. “What were you thinking!?”

“I thought I could flank ‘em, knock off a few from behind, even the odds.”

“Oh you _evened the odds_ , alright! Handed yourself over to them as a fucking hostage!”

“...Wasn’t a hostage.”

Gabe stopped pacing, spun around to glare at Jesse. “I personally negotiated your release. _I_ had to put my ass on the line to justify to command why we shouldn’t just write you off as a prisoner of war. So yes, you were a goddamned hostage.” The pacing resumed, now with curled fists to match. Jesse wondered if Gabe was going to hit something, maybe him. He wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t deserve it.

“I made the best decision I could with the information I had. Mighta been a _stupid_ decision, but-”

“Might? _Might!?_ What the fuck ever happened to telling your CO what’s going on in that scruffy little head of yours, huh? You get an idea, you tell whoever is in charge, let _them_ decide. Then you might have the backup you need when things go tits-up.”

Jesse still had issues with authority. They both knew that. Gabe was the only one who could get him to listen on any kind of consistent basis. “I’m no good at trustin’ people. You know that.”

Gabe reached out, put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. It was warm and oddly comforting after all the yelling. “You don’t have to trust them. Trust me.”

When he put it that way, it was hard to argue. Jesse did trust Gabe, would follow him into Hell and back.

“I just… can’t…” Gabe grit his teeth and looked away, fingers clenching around Jesse’s shoulder, “Just don’t want you to get hurt.”

A strange heat pooled in Jesse’s gut, lingering long after Gabe was called away.

* * *

The debrief dragged on for ages. They always did, but usually he was too exhausted to care. Usually he wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and sleep for a week. Gabe said he pushed himself too hard in the field.

Gabe.

The man was leading the debrief, calm and methodical as always.

In that moment, Jesse hated him.

He waited until it was over, took his time to stand and stretch while the rest of his team filed out of the meeting room. When they were the last two in the room, Jesse nudged the door shut. Gabe looked up from the paperwork he was sorting into folders, frowning when he saw the expression on Jesse’s face. “Is there a problem?”

“Yer damn right there is.”

Gabe sighed, tugged the beanie from his head and ran his hand over his short curls. “You reacted emotionally.”

“They were _killing_ people!”

“I didn’t need any unknown variables out there.”

“ _Unknown variables?_ Gabe, I’ve been here for years. I’m about as far from an unknown variable as a man can get. And if you just pulled me back, had me meet back up with the team and reevaluate the situation, fine. But you pulled me back _to the drop ship_. You had me sit out the whole damn mission. _While people died._ ”

“And you think you could have saved them. You would have run in and tried to save every last one of them.” Jesse couldn’t argue the point. It was what he had wanted the whole time he sat in that drop ship and listened over the coms to hear what was going on. “And I’d be sitting here planning your funeral right now.” Gabe’s voice was strained, and Jesse took a moment to really look at him.

He looked… tired. Had he always looked like he was wearing the weight of the world on his shoulders? He looked like he needed a long nap. And maybe a massage. An image came to Jesse’s mind unbidden: Jesse tugging the other man’s shirt off, rubbing firm lines across broad shoulders, kneading the strong muscles of his back until Gabe moaned, head dropping forward as his tense body finally began to relax.

Jesse swallowed, looked quickly toward the door.

It was time to go.

Gabe rounded the table, stood facing him for a moment before reaching out and taking Jesse’s hand. The warm weight of it was familiar, but Jesse felt like the world was tilting on its axis. What was _wrong_ with him?

“I can’t lose you, vaquero.” The man’s voice was ragged, like he was holding back emotions he didn’t know how to express. His thumb stroked across Jesse’s wrist, a distraction from the weight of his words, the intensity of his gaze behind tired eyes. Jesse curled his fingers around Gabe’s, focused on that contact while searching his eyes for answers to questions he hadn’t yet figured out how to ask.

He wanted to close the distance between them. His mind was already calculating how far to raise up on his toes, how slowly to start - already wondering whether Gabe would respond, reciprocate, take control of it the way Jesse imagined late at night when there was no one to hear the soft sounds he made while thinking inappropriate thoughts about his commander.

Gabe tugged at his hand, just the tiniest bit, and he started to move forward, his breath shuddering to a stop.

A shrill beep interrupted them. Startled, they jerked apart, looking around nervously. With a groan Gabe picked up his holopad. “I have to take this,” he said with a heavy sigh, frowning at the screen.

“Okay, I’ll just… go.” Jesse gestured toward the door, and when there was no response, he backed toward it, hoping to the last moment that Gabe would change his mind and call him back. The man was thoroughly distracted by whatever message he had received, though, and Jesse reluctantly opened the door to leave.

“Jesse.” He turned back, meeting Gabe’s eyes with as much hope as he could muster. “Get some rest.”

That was dismissal, loud and clear. Jesse nodded sharply and left, disappointment sour in the back of his mouth.

* * *

“You doing alright?” The voice was dark like molasses and smooth as silk coming through the communicator tucked into Jesse’s ear.

“Any better an’ I wouldn’t like it.”

The “hmph” that got in response was full of a begrudging amusement that Jesse had to come to truly appreciate in their time together.

It was relaxing, having Gabe’s deep voice murmuring in his ear. This wasn’t his first solo mission, but it was definitely the most serious one so far. As rare as it was to have him commanding from a distance like this, Jesse appreciated the personal touch.

“You’ve got an intersection coming up in about 10 meters. Turn left.”

Jesse nodded, taking a moment to remember he needed to respond verbally. “Understood.”

“After the turn you’ll be in a corridor. Ming says security is down; you should be able to walk right in. Third door on the left.”

Jesse approached the intersection slowly, listening carefully for footsteps or voices. Silence filled his ears until they buzzed. Leaning forward, he glanced quickly around the corner, gun ready. Just an empty corridor in both directions. He evaluated the corridor briefly, but all routes looked equally unhelpful, all doors identical. He would definitely need the help getting out of here if his entry route was blocked.

He kept his footsteps light, briskly covering the distance to the third door on the left. His fingers curled around the handle and twisted.

“Tell Ming she’s fired.”

“Report.” Gabe’s voice was sharper, on alert.

“It’s locked, boss.” Nervous eyes darted up and down the corridor. How often were security sweeps again?

Low voices chattered in the background of the comms. Ming sounded pushy and exasperated, but that was pretty normal for her. With a rustle, Gabe’s voice returned to the mic. “Ming says she definitely disabled all the electronics. If it’s still locked, it’s mechanical.” Jesse already had his lock-picks out by the time Gabe asked, “Can you handle it without a light?”

“If you hush and let me work,” he mumbled around the pick currently held in his mouth like a cigarette. The click in the earpiece told him the sound had been muted. He kneeled and worked the tensioner into place, adding the tiniest bit of pressure before sliding the pick alongside it to work the pins of the lock.

In his head a clock ticked loudly, reminding him that security would be coming through any moment. Officially he wasn’t here. He’d been instructed to avoid casualties, even at the risk of the mission itself if necessary. It made his job harder to do, but he didn’t really want to kill anyone anyway. Especially security: they were just doing a job.

His com clicked back on. “Status?” Jesse could feel some of the pins loosened up, his pick moving smoothly across the back of the lock, but the front was still fighting him. “Ming says you have 30 seconds.”

Dammit.

He fiddled with the pins some more, his concentration divided between the lock and listening for sounds. 

Something that could have been a footstep echoed from far away. 

Someone in the stairwell? 

Fuck. 

“McCree?”

“‘M workin’ on it,” he growled through gritted teeth. He knew how to pick a lock, dammit. Some of them were just _stubborn_. If he could just get that first damn pin to-

The tensioner shifted, turning the lock just as another sound echoed down the corridor, this time from much closer. Jesse didn’t take the time to look, just opened the door and darted in, grabbing his tools and closing the door behind him as quietly as possible.

“I’m in,” he whispered, still listening closely for steps in the hall. Nothing yet.

For a server room, it was actually much cooler and cleaner than he expected. He supposed both were important to maintain the integrity of the tech, but he’d been in some pretty bad server rooms before. He let his eyes wander across the towers of flickering lights. It was an unfathomable maze to him; here was Ming’s real test.

“Alright. Ming says it’s in the second row, fifth rack.”

He found the rack in question, taking in the tower of identical drives. “Now what?”

“Confirming… Fourth row of drives, seventh bay.”

It didn’t look any different from the others. With a shrug he pressed the button to release the drive, carefully sliding it out of its bay.

“Ming has intercepted the alert that a drive is missing. Checking to ensure the correct data has been taken…” Jesse inspected the delicate device in his hands, marveling at how much effort went into collecting this data physically instead of having Ming hack the damn thing. “Okay, we’re good. Insert the decoy.”

Jesse tucked the first drive into the crook of his arm and pulled a case from his pocket. It was easy enough to slip the decoy drive into the empty bay, using the case for the one he had just removed. He snapped the cover back into place over the bay and watched as the little light flickered back to life.

“Okay, it looks like everything’s in place. Get your ass out of there, McCree.”

“Ain’t gotta tell me twice.”

A loud crash came from outside the building, followed by an extended rumble and distant shouts. Footsteps echoed through the hallway just outside the server room, rushing in the direction of the noise. Jesse ducked behind the nearest tower, hand resting anxiously on his gun.

The footsteps faded, silence returning to the hallway while the chaos outside continued. “We got a problem, jefe.”

“Report.”

“Some kind of explosion I think.”

“Shit. Are you in a defensible position?”

“Bout as good as it’s gonna get in this place.”

There was no response, but Jesse figured Gabe was distracted. A few tense minutes of silence followed. Gabe returned to the com with a frustrated sigh. “Looks like the explosion took out your escape route. We’re working on a new one, but…”

“Unknown variables. I got it, boss. Jus’ lie low an’ wait it out.”

“Your favorite thing.”

Jesse laughed softly. There wasn’t much in the world he hated as much as sitting around _waiting_. “You know me.”

The soft, “I do,” that answered him held more than just an acknowledgement. Shit.

Jesse sat back against one of the towers, bracing himself so he could stand quickly if the door should open but otherwise relaxing. Who knew how long he’d be stuck here? “When I get out of here… After debrief and everything…” He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “We need to talk.”

There was a long pause, and for a few moments Jesse wondered if Gabe was even listening to his com. “Get home first, Jesse. Everything else can wait.”

* * *

Jesse pressed his back to the wall, dropping his head back until it thumped against the cool plaster. A long, exhausted sigh shuddered out of him. He lit his cigarillo and took several long drags, sucking down the smoke like it might be his last chance.

That mission had been Hell. Almost literally, there toward the end, when he was dragging himself through fire and ash, the smell of burning flesh stinging his nose, blinded by smoke and grit.

Somehow it was the smoothest debrief he’d ever experienced. Short and sweet: hand over the stolen data, answer a handful of questions, and move the fuck on.

He should have been sleeping.

“You should be sleeping.”

There was no point fighting the smile that curled his lips. “’s what my body keeps sayin’. Brain won’t listen.”

Gabe leaned against the wall next to him. “You actually followed orders for once.”

“I reckon miracles do happen.”

The pause that followed was heavy with the weight of words unspoken. Gabe seemed to be deciding exactly what he wanted to say. “I’m sorry.”

Jesse glanced over at his commander with narrowed eyes. “What have you got to be sorry for? Ya got me out of there alive, didn’t ya?” Jesse finished his cigarillo, withdrawing the metal case from his pocket and stubbing it out inside, tucking the butt of it away to toss out later.

Gabe turned so that his shoulder was pressed against the wall, his eyes heavy on Jesse’s side. “Barely,” he admitted bitterly.

“We all have ta make tough choices, boss.” He turned to face Gabe, meeting his eyes and trying to look more certain than he felt. “Yours keep me alive.”

“I asked you to crawl through Hell itself, couldn’t even promise extraction once you got through it, and you didn’t even hesitate.” There’s a challenge in those deep brown eyes, a question Jesse isn’t sure he knows how to answer.

“I’d do it again, if you asked. Wouldn’t even need a reason.” Jesse swallowed thickly.

Gabe’s brows furrowed. Blinking away a traitorous tear, he inched closer, one hand coming to rest on Jesse’s neck. “Cariño,” he breathed.

Jesse curled his fingers in Gabe’s shirt, tugged him closer to rest their foreheads together. They stayed like that for several long moments, breathing in each other’s scent hidden beneath the cigarillo smoke lingering in the hallway.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Gabe tilted his head and pressed their lips together.

The world stopped spinning.

They stopped breathing.

Nothing existed beyond the two of them.

A tiny, needy sound fought its way out of Jesse’s throat, echoed by something similar from Gabe. Together they leaned into the kiss, opened to it, let it overwhelm their senses. Gabe dipped his tongue into Jesse’s mouth - a single, teasing stroke against his own - and then pulled away with a contented sigh.

Clinging to him, Jesse whined at the loss, leaning in for more. Gabe pressed a final, chaste kiss against his lips and stepped back, putting some distance between them. “We’re supposed to talk about this,” he reminded Jesse with a gentle smile.

“Words are overrated,” Jesse replied flippantly, pushing back into Gabe’s space. “We’ve been denyin’ this for _years_. At least give it a couple minutes.”

Gabe chuckled at his eagerness, pulling him back in close. “Always a cowboy, rushing in.”

Jesse smirked, resting their foreheads together again. “At least I’m a known variable.”

**Author's Note:**

> Want to leave a comment but not sure what to write? Tell me how you like your coffee (or tea).


End file.
